As I sat on the chair outside the office I couldn’t help but fidget. I smoothed down the skirt over my thighs, tucking my feet below my chair, ankles crossed like a lady. I pulled my jacket over closed at my front, then wriggled it off from my shoulders to reveal the crisp white blouse I wore under it. Catching sight of the black bra below, I pulled the jacket back on and buttoned it in the front. I needed to calm down. Breathe.
How could I possibly calm down?
Let me fill you in just a little. Around a year ago, I met her online. Her. She. My partner. My owner. My Mistress. I met her in another world, a virtual world. I met her in a femdom. All the usual things happened, she resisted, I resisted, we landed together. We met. She collared me. We fell in love. I left my home, my family and moved to be closer to her.
I moved my life to be closer to her.
Closer, her house, her family, her friends and her life. I moved there.
Now, she is powerful in her job. She makes enough of money. But after the honeymoon of me being there, it was time now for me to find a job also. I am a fairly confident person. I interview well I think. Not that you could tell that now as I was playing with a loose thread on the hem of my skirt, just over my knee or shifting my kitten heeled shoes from one side to the other balanced on the skin toned tights covering my toes.
The difference was, she would conduct this interview. She was on the panel. God, I felt ill. More ill than the day I travelled to her for the first time. I had to be the best person for the job. I had to interview so the rest of the panel approved me. I had to get this job for her. I had to be her assistant. No one else could do that job. No one else could do that better than I would.
She had dressed me that morning, not in a literal way. She picked out the suit I would wear. I wore her stockings. I wore no underwear. I could feel the nylon rubbing against my hidden lips every time I shifted with nerves on the chair.
I watched as though I was outside of my body as the person before me left. I looked at how I sat, then I sat straighter. I was next. What would they ask? The interview passed in a blur and I must have done well. I was only at the end of the street when one of the others on the panel called with the good news. I was to be offered the job.
None of them knew I was hers. Her plan was, that we would to the public eye “fall in love” while on the job. Plenty fell for their assistants she said. All the men had. “Could I come back and pick up some things, my new boss wanted me to start on Monday?” the voice on the phone said. My heart leapt. The excitement in my voice was genuine. Now not only could I serve her at home, I could do it at work also. I would get paid to serve her, to make her life easier.
As I returned to the building she greeted me with a smirk of a smile, offering her hand briefly to me in the hallway, before escorting me into her office. She flicked the sign to “Meeting. Do Not Disturb” and locked the door behind me. It was the first I had actually been in her office, though she had told me enough about the others who worked with her, about the lay out. About what my job would be. I stood with my back to the door, a grin which seemed to move beyond my cheeks was plastered over my face. I did it.
With her face close to mine her fingertips undid the button on my jacket and slid it down off my shoulders, dropping it onto the floor beside me. She whispered in my ear, which she knows gets me every time “Congratulations on being offered this position. I hope I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are to get it.” My knees felt weak as I pressed my own trembling hands back into the door frame.
As she went over some of the basic information of the job, what I would need to know to get me back out of the office and to have security passes made up she unbuttoned my blouse. Leaving it on around my hips, she tugged at my bra which revealed fully hardened, excited nipples. I could tell she was silently amused as she attached a small office clip, the sort you flick the metal back on each side and squeeze to open, to each of my nipples after giving them a firm twist with her fingertips. A row of threaded together paper clips followed so they dangled between my breasts, teasing my skin as her fingers lingered over me. My breathing became shallow, rapid and excited.
With flushed cheeks on my part, she returned the blouse up over my shoulders and guided me by the chain over to her desk.
As I knelt to the side of her chair I moved my knees apart the way she liked. The way I knelt only for her, my head just level with the top of her desk. The toe of her shoes which I had kissed that morning pushed my skirt higher on my thighs, then scratched up my inner thigh till one pressed against my swollen clit. I took each thing she passed into my hands, files of policy to be read before starting. Forms to sign, wage information to fill in. I tried to concentrate. I attempted to focus on something that wasn’t the growing urge I felt in my core as she found a rhythm in how she pressed the toe of her shoe into me, something that wasn’t how my hips pushed forward to meet it, to feel it firmer, information that wasn’t the ache which stung in my nipples as the cotton blouse brushed against where they were pinched and the weight which came from the chain of paper clips between them. Anything to ignore the burn in my knees from her office carpet, and the warm dampness which threatened to over spill any minute.
Her intercom went off, and I flushed in a panic as she pushed her foot hard into me sending a wave of pleasure though me, a jolt of goose bumps over my skin. Then it was gone.
She leaned forward and murmured in my ear, her fingers slipping though my hair “Take off the clamps in the elevator. Don’t change till I get home. I’m keeping your bra.” Then with a warm smile she stood and said, “That will be all, thank you for coming in today.”
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